


Forgiveness

by Naughty Padawan (ThreeBea)



Category: Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Slavery, unclear ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:59:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7077976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThreeBea/pseuds/Naughty%20Padawan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: Fuck or die with Anakin on top and Obi-Wan unaware of what's happening.</p><p>Summary: Anakin doesn't have a choice and he knows that Obi-Wan will forgive him anything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness

“If you don’t, we’ll kill you both.”

Anakin flushed furiously. Anger welled in his belly. He tried to reach for the Force and serenity which was harder and harder. 

Queen Miraj looked at him slyly, “And he will die slowly and you will watch if you refuse my request.”

“Request?” Anakin growled. 

The Zygerrian Queen was practically preening. “If you care so much for him, you will fuck him for me. To entertain me. I can hardly believe the rumours when I look at you about ‘chaste jedis’ but the crowd will like the allure. 

 

Crowd. She wanted to… she wanted him to rape his Master in front of a crowd. 

“And if I don’t find it pleasing. Rough and hot, he will die and it will be my men that will use him before the end.” 

What could he do but agree? 

-

He knew that Obi-Wan would forgive him. Without question he would. Even so Anakin wasn’t sure he could do this. He had promised himself a long time ago that he would protect his Master. He wouldn’t lose him like Obi-Wan lost Qui-Gon. If there was a blaster bolt to jump in front of, or a speeder to push him out of the way of, Anakin would do it. Although Obi-Wan had similar ideas. Half the time… sometimes more than half the time Obi-Wan would be taking blaster bolts, getting hit by speeders, getting captured for the sake of Anakin. One time he even promised: “You can save me later, Anakin. Let me take the blaster bolt now.” 

This was saving Obi-Wan. This would save him. 

He felt his insides melt. Frozen ice water. He didn’t want to move anymore. Would Obi-Wan do this to save him?

No. Obi-Wan would find another way. He would be more clever somehow. He would negotiate it down to whipping, or slapping, or something infinitely better than this. 

Obi-Wan was on a platform in the middle of the Colosseum. Holo-droids flew around, putting Obi-Wan’s images up on huge screens so no details could be missed. 

Obi-Wan was naked. A collar was around his neck and he was chained to the platform. His shoulders were beginning to burn from long exposure to the hot sun. He was kneeling. A brief meditation, although Anakin knew all his awareness was on him as soon as he was in view. 

Obi-Wan looked stoic. He probably expected another whipping, or execution unaware that Dooku was heading their way. 

Anakin was still dressed like a Zygerrian noble. He kept himself straight as he strode towards the platform. He wanted to reach out in the Force, he couldn’t. His Force sense had been numbed by some sort of drug. It was still there, but it was impossible to reach to another mind, even his own Master. He couldn’t focus, and it was so hot. 

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan’s lips formed his name, but he didn’t hear it. He was too focused on his lips. He had embarrassing memories of his years as a padawan, his nights making him desperate for a release as many male humans need. The face of Padme, idealized and beloved, but faded by time. And it felt wrong to use her like that. She was a precious memory, beloved. There was no one else, except Master. Master was beautiful too, and Master–even unknowing–would forgive him for using him to get off. 

The Queen spoke to her people and Obi-Wan. She claimed something about Anakin being her consort. That this was a gift for her amusement. That this was a betrayal. 

Obi-Wan didn’t believe it for a moment, that much was clear, but he did seem worried. Anakin felt a pressure in the Force. Familiar, Obi-Wan checking on him. 

It was so hot. He had a horrible thought that it would be better. If he could feel Obi-Wan with the Force while he did this. No. He didn’t want this. Not in this way. 

Anakin had finally reached the platform. Obi-Wan gazed up at him. His eyes were already forgiving. Whatever he was about to do he was completely absolved. 

Oh.

He felt himself harden, because he sometimes forgot the feeling of his Master’s devotion.

He cupped himself without thinking. He couldn’t fight his impulse. It was all instinct and want. Gratification so close. At last a bit of surprise in his Master’s eyes. 

Again, “Anakin.” 

This time he did hear the words, but it was a bit out of sync with Obi-Wan’s tempting lips. 

“I forgive you.” Obi-Wan said, making everything so much worse. “Whatever they’re making you do, I forgive you.” 

Didn’t he understand what he was saying? What he was giving Anakin? Anakin could do anything he liked now. His control was gone, and he was so hard, and Obi-Wan beautiful. He had been scrubbed down and shaved, and Anakin was reminded of when they first met. Obi-Wan seemed so much older back then. Now he looked young. So wise, but so young, and so forgiving. 

He had been staring for too long. His gaze felt like it must be glazed. A prompt from someone. 

When he was told of what he would need to do, he was confident he could make it look good without hurting Obi-Wan too much, knowing his Master would catch on, and play along. But now the drug coursed through him. His control was gone. He was achingly hard. He had Obi-Wan’s forgiveness so he could do whatever he liked. 

He took the chain that attached to Obi-Wan’s collar and yanked him forward. 

“I want you to suck me off.” He heard himself say. Oh… that’s a good idea. 

He couldn’t read Obi-Wan’s face at all. Always the Jedi. Always the perfect mask. Anakin wanted to rip that mask away. He wanted more than forgiveness now. 

He pulled Obi-Wan closer until his face was pressed up against Anakin’s synthleather pants. 

Obi-Wan didn’t fight. Of course he didn’t fight. He thought this was all an act. It wasn’t enough. Anakin tangled his fingers in Obi-Wan’s ginger hair. He gripped tightly, pulling Obi-Wan’s head up so that he could see his eyes. Obi-Wan’s eyes told him nothing, but his mouth was open. 

With little finesse, Anakin rubbed his cock against Obi-Wan’s lips. He shuddered at the sensation. Precum leaked out embarrassingly hard. 

“Use that silver tongue of yours, Master,” Someone ordered–he must have ordered. Obi-Wan began to lick. Still obedient. Not struggling. Everything still shut away. 

He let Obi-Wan’s tongue slide over his balls and up his cock. Hot and wet and so pleasant. 

He tightened his grip on Obi-Wan’s hair and pushed his cock down his throat. He gasped at the sensation, and pumped a few more times. His Master made small choking sounds. Such a small gag reflex. Anakin laughed at that, no one else did. No one else saw the joke. Although there were lots of cheers. The smell of sex and heat filled the area. 

“Control that better for me, Master. I’m not done yet,” He said. Finally, finally a reaction. A narrowing of the eyes. Annoyance? It wasn’t what he was going for, but it was so much better than stoicism. 

It was so easy to be cruel. He curled his hand around the back of Obi-Wan’s head and jerked his hips. He was going to explode–

But–

He pulled out quickly. Held his own cock. Aching need. Perfect pain. 

And suddenly his Master struck out at him. 

Shock and pain and hurt and confusion. How dare he? Anakin’s instincts screamed. He kicked out hard, hitting Obi-Wan’s jaw, throwing him back. He was instantly on top of him. Pinning him. Obi-Wan had obviously not eaten and from the bruises and scars had suffered beatings and whipping. He was weak and Anakin was strong. Much stronger. 

This isn’t real. 

He paused for a hair of a moment. That reminder. His consciousness trying to break free. 

You don’t really want to hurt him. You love your Master.

Oh, but he did. He loved him, but he wanted to hurt him, and make him submit, and there would be no consequences. 

He pushed his weight down in between his master’s shoulders, and pushed his finger into his unprotected ass. He was surprised that it wasn’t so hard, even without the lube. Realized his Master was relaxing himself despite his obvious protests. Minimizing his own hurt. Fighting without fighting. How like him. How frustrating. 

Anakin added more fingers eliciting a shout. 

“This is going to hurt,” He told him. 

He had been given a small bottle of lubricant. He rubbed a bit onto his own cock. He continued to stretch Obi-Wan painfully. Could feel the resistance, even with Obi-Wan so relaxed. He did add lube, but that was for his own comfort. 

He felt big compared to his Master’s abused hole. He had to push in hard to fit. Obi-Wan was making pleasant sounds between gritted teeth. 

“You’re so tight, Master. Has no one ever used you like this before?” Anakin asked experimentally rolling his hips forward. So tight. Fierfek. 

He had never seen his Master with another being, but he had always thought his Master had at least some experience. Perhaps before Anakin, because Anakin was the most important thing to Obi-Wan. He didn’t need lovers anymore. 

He felt possessive pride at that thought, and then anger for those previous lovers. No one should be allowed to have him. 

He held Obi-Wan by his hips shoving his cock back and forth. Claiming him. Mine, mine, mine. Each thrust, mine. 

“Perhaps if you are very good I’ll give him to you as a gift. Wouldn’t you like a pet?” Miraj had laughed in his ear. 

Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes.

He yelled out, powerful, dominant. He came into his Master and it was glorious. He squeezed hard at the Master Jedi’s hips pulling him back onto Anakin’s cock as far as he could go.

He loosened his grip. As soon as he did Obi-Wan had pulled away from him–or had he been pulled away. The chain was in one of the guard’s hands now, who was laughing in Obi-Wan’s face.

Anakin stood his cock still out.

“He’s mine,” He tried to put into words, but they were already dragging him away. Obi-Wan wasn’t looking at him. There was no whisper of forgiveness as expected. That wasn’t… he should have…

The cheers floated over him, and finally he pulled his pants back up. He was flanked by guards out of the stadium and brought to the Queen again.

“What did you give me,” He demanded. It was wearing off now. 

“Give you?” She asked feigning ignorance. 

“I know you gave me something!” He said angrily. “What was it.” 

“Orders,” She replied. She smiled, “And you fulfilled them perfectly. “It was a very good show.” 

“You’re a liar!” he yelled.

Her eyes narrowed. “I can still kill him.”

And that. That shut Anakin up. 

When it was over. When they were home. He tested his blood. No trace of a foreign chemical. It had taken too long for him to check. 

And Obi-Wan had forgiven him. 

So… they would be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> X-posted to Tumblr.


End file.
